Chapter 4
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Going into Ollivanders I was almost certain he wouldn’t be able to find a wand matching me. I loved reading about wandlore when I was Emma, but once I became Celestia I immediately knew that no standard wand would ever fit me. It is a curious thing is it not? How stories and tales often have a kernel of truth. I knew elder wood was often considered unlucky, and viewed as a wood that would challenge it’s owner, the same way I knew that I needed a dragonheart core, but not just any, oh no, it needed my own.

 

 

- Excerpt from Celestia Ravenclaw’s journals, on ‘the’ wand.

 

-

Walking into a diagon alley in May was interesting. There weren’t a lot of people around, and the snow had just melted. Which I considered weird, I never thought they’d actually let snow fall in a magical alley, but I guess it would be a hassle to remove it. 

This wasn’t my first foray into diagon, I’d already visited once upon my 11th birthday to claim the head of house of ravenclaw, and I was now considered Lady Ravenclaw. This is just one of those examples that the Wizengamot can pass as many laws as they want, but magic and family traditions will always come first. 

The goblins were interesting, they were racist, understandably, but Mother Rowena already told me how to treat them. Not like lessers, not like equals, but as a nuisance just like they would treat me. Don’t waste their time, but don’t take threats lying down, but never, ever draw a weapon or a wand without first challenging a duel, apparently they have some weird twisted sense of honour.

I digress, walking towards Olivanders I spot the telltale sign. “Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C”.

Opening the door I am greeted with scents of woods, parchment, but also different animals. My senses are better than a normal human, and I can smell all of the different animals from the different wands.

“Oh my oh my, what a treat.” The raspy voice of an old man, grey-white hair that could be nobody else but Garrick Olivander. Apparently he looks just like his movie counterpart, I really have to look into that later.

Smirking slightly I look into his eyes. “I suppose that would depend on if you consider a tricky customer a treat or a nuisance.”

Chuckling slightly in that same unsettling raspy tone, almost making me flinch. “Oh Lady Ravenclaw, you will be a joy.”

Apparently that is actually a thing here, how in the name of Hecate does he know who I am, out of all the children entering his shop. Something like the Marauders Map?

Withdrawing from my thoughts I take a look around at the shelves, before looking back to Garrick. Time to see if Pottermore lies or not.

Garrick takes out a measuring tape and a quill from his robe, the tape flies over to me and starts measuring everything from my height, finger length to even my bust, which is weird, while the quill writes down, what I can only assume are the measurements.

I can hear him humming while looking a the parchment, and I’m curious to see what he will start with.

Rummaging through some of the shelves he withdraws three black boxes, while looking between me and the boxes.

“Here, let us try these first. The first one. Acacia wood, Phoenix Feather, 12 and a quarter inch.”

I can already feel that the wand is dead to me before I even touch it, nonetheless I grasp it in my hand and feel the wood creak and struggle before it simply jumps out of my hand.

“No, not that one. Next. Alder wood and Dragon heartstring. 14 inches.”

I grab the wand and I can feel the wood judging our compatibility, while the core simply refuses, it calls out in challenge, Dragon versus Dragonborn. The store begins to shake, and Garrick snatches the wand out of my hand.

“No I didn’t think so, this next one is going to be a failure as well, but I want to see how it reacts. Apple wood, Unicorn tail hair and 13 inches.”

I can almost hear the wand scream in denial, and my hand hovers over Garrick’s outstretched one, I don’t even want to pick up the wand. 

“No I suppose not. Very tricky customer, but it looks like you expected that.”

I give him a strained smile. It’s something else feeling the magic and the wands, not just reading about it, I knew that I could expect them to feel alive, but they do not feel like a tool, more like a living being, and I suppose that is what happens when you use cores of magical creatures.

“Mr. Ollivander, you wouldn’t happen to have a block of elder wood?” I smile up at him, and he flinches at the mention of elder. Does he know Dumbledore has the Elder Wand? No he shouldn’t, Voldemort would have grabbed it from him then, unless his occlumeny is good enough to hide it?”

“Yes, yes, yes, I had a feeling it would come to that.”

He leaves me to look around the shop while he walks up a set of stairs hidden in the back of the store, while I twiddle the invisible Ravenclaw ring adorning my middle finger. Letting myself feel the magic from the ring seeking out my own. Curious how it has only had one owner before me, my sister never had the chance to wear it, only mother.

My attention snaps back to reality as Garrick comes back down the stairs with a dark gray block of wood. He sets it on the counter and I walk up to it with my hand outstretched, under the curious eyes of the wand maker.

Grasping the wood I feel a myriad of emotions as images flashes in my mind, a roar, a green light, scorching fire, death of a loved one, misery, anger, rage, love, serenity.

I gasp as I let go of the wood, I was not expecting the myriad of emotions and images, and I wish I didn’t, as I feel like it just told me a prophecy of my life.

“Curious, most curious.” I look up at the wand maker and tilt my head, there is no way he would have known?

His eyes meet mine and I can smell subtle tones of forest wood and ash, masked by all the other scents in the shop. Before I can dwell any longer on it Garrick resumes speaking.

“Elder is an unlucky wood, often challenging it’s owner, and only those with great destinies and made for great things will ever truly be able to conquer this wood.”

My mind goes back to the Elder Wand, and how only a few magical has ever held it for longer than a short time.

I grab a vial from my robe, and show it to Garrick, his eyebrows shoot up as he looks between me and the vial, before I nod. “Dragon heart string, soaked in my own blood for over five years.”

During my awakening Mother Rowena apparently had one of the elves somehow extract a piece of my heart during the time I gained the Dovahsil, or dragon heart. How I never asked, and never wanted to know, but it was given to me this morning before setting out for olivander.

“Yes, yes this will do. Elder wood, dragon heart string soaked in the blood of yourself, I assume around 14 inches. Yes this will be an interesting wand. You Lady Ravenclaw, will do great things.”

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